


Refuse to Let Go

by melanoms



Series: 50 Kisses [11]
Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Break Up, F/M, Post-Break Up, Reunions, Surgery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-06
Updated: 2020-05-06
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:48:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24043873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melanoms/pseuds/melanoms
Summary: You left New York after your break-up with Stephen. But Metro-General reached out with an even more promising offer. Perhaps he can start to make things up to you?Kiss prompt: A kiss so desperate that the two wind around each other, refusing to let go until they are finished.
Relationships: Stephen Strange/Reader
Series: 50 Kisses [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1671802
Kudos: 98





	Refuse to Let Go

**Author's Note:**

> My heart is craving some surgeon Stephen right now.

Christine scribbled the last of her notes to discharge her patient. She felt Stephen’s eyes boring into her.

“She said she’d be in town at the end of this week,” she muttered.

Christine glanced at him and raised an eyebrow.

“She didn’t tell you she was coming did she?”

“Of course she did.”

She shook her head and resumed writing.

“You are a terrible liar. Why else would you bother to step foot in the ER?”

But when she looked back up, Christine was only talking to herself.

Stephen heard talk that Metro-General offered you your old job back. The hospital tried to woo you with an even bigger salary, research grants, and a discretionary fund for pro bono surgeries. But everyone knew that you didn’t leave because of the money.

You left because of him.

“I used to think it was fitting that you open people’s skulls and I operate on their hearts. It was like we fit together. But maybe the heart I’m letting bleed out, day after day, minute by minute is my own. Loving you is eating me from the inside out. And I can’t do it anymore.”

Stephen was certain, like he was of everything, that you would get over it. It wasn’t his fault that the hospital decided to fund his experimental procedure over yours. Your patient already received a death sentence that no science could miracle away—even if he was nine-years-old.

But the next day, he woke up to an empty bed.

Your suitcase-worth of belongings were out of his—no your, he just got used to calling it your—apartment. When he got to work, he rejected a few cases and waited for you to come to his office. But when you didn’t show after a few hours, he found Christine to ask where you were.

“She’s gone.”

“When will she be back?”

“No, you’re not getting it. She’s gone. She finally took that job in Boston.”

“But they’re a joke. She wasn’t legitimately considering their offer.”

“No, asshole. It’s actually a great opportunity. One she could never take with your looming shadow. And I, for one, am happy for her.” She took a deep breath. “She left, Stephen. She left you.”

But now, thanks to the hospital’s gossip highway, he knew that you were flying back to New York to negotiate. It seemed that everyone knew what you were up to these days...everyone except for him.

Chin resting on his hands, Stephen stared at the Newton’s cradle on his desk. The balls clacked back and forth as his mind was haunted by memories of you. 

The day to burst into his office, still in your scrubs, covered in blood with tears streaming down your face.

“We did it,” you gasped. “We separated them and they’re going to be fine.”

You collapsed into his arms and sobbed. He stroked your hair and relished the rhythm of your heart beating into his.

“I’m still mad I didn’t get in on this one.”

“Stephen, shut up and let me have this. Please.”

He smirked and planted a kiss on your head.

Or there was the time that he lobbied to remove a butterfly tumor from the brain of a college student. The dean of medicine refused to let him operate due to the high risk.

“You want to talk about saving a life, Strange? Surgery is a death sentence. Move on.”

“I can do this. I know that I can.” 

“The most humane thing you can do is let her live out her final months in peace.”

“Humane?” you spat. “There is one person on this earth who can help her. Who can give her not just a few months, but a lifetime. She traveled across the country by herself to find him. And you’re going to turn her away because what? It might look bad for the hospital? She, like everyone else in this room, knows that Strange can do this. Don’t sign her death warrant because you’re the only one who gave up.”

You and Stephen stormed out with the dean’s begrudging blessing.

“Thank y—”

You spun around and rammed your finger into his chest.

“You better fucking pull this off. I don’t ever want to regret believing in you.”

And he didn’t let you regret it—not professionally, at least. 

Yet, through all the arguments, all the wins, and all the losses, Stephen would never forget the night that you lost  _ that _ patient. 

Seventeen hours into a procedure that was only deemed possible with the combination of your minds, Death came to collect without any acknowledgment of your desperate pleas for mercy. 

Sitting on the floor of his loft, you propped yourself against his bed and leaned on his shoulder. The two of you watched the city turn as that horrific day melted into the next—exchanging nothing but a few sorrowful glances and aching kisses.

Exhausted from the burden of missing you, Stephen reached out to stop the kinetic balls from taunting him.

_ Did you remember these memories too? Or only the ones where he let you down? _

At the end of the day, he returned to his apartment. But his breath caught in his throat at the sound of a gentle melody drifting from inside. He jiggled the keys and opened the door to reveal you, his greatest muse, at his piano and finishing a sorrowful tune.

You took a deep breath and looked him in the eyes.

“You never changed the lock. I hope it’s okay. I got here early.”

Stephen blinked a few times. His eyes flickered from your face to the lonely suitcase that abandoned him months ago.

“If not, I can—” 

“Don’t.”

You stepped away from the keyboard as he set down his bag. You couldn’t hear anything but the thumping of your heart as he slowly approached you. 

Hands trembling on either side of your face, Stephen bore his eyes into yours—as if the look alone could transfer the infinite apologies he wrote, but never sent you. Leaving you to think of all the times you wish you hit send on the text that said  _ just say sorry and I’ll come home. _

Home.

Home.

Home.

You threw your arms around his neck and pulled him into a pleading kiss. With a gasp, he tangled his fingers through your hair. His lips begged for forgiveness and you willingly poured it into him—along with your own concoction of regret and relief. 

Lips never leaving yours, he eventually trailed his hands down your neck, along your back, and across your waist. But, unsatisfied with the minuscule amount of touch, Stephen bent down to put his hands under your thighs. You accepted his invitation and, using his neck for leverage, leaped onto him and wrapped your legs around his hips.

He carried you to the bed. His hands committed themselves to protect you from the force of gravity: the most valuable act they would do that day. With a graceless thud, your bodies melted into the mattress.

“I didn’t come just to—”

“I know.”

He was already undressing you—determined to never let you regret believing in him again.

**Author's Note:**

> Want to request a kiss? Submit one for the [50 Kiss Challenge.](https://melanoms.tumblr.com/post/613164682334945280/lets-kiss-50-kiss-challenge) Open to multifandom requests!


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